


Copper Marigolds

by elfgirl931



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 08:39:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1812157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfgirl931/pseuds/elfgirl931
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aveline and Donnic fluff, because there's not enough of them in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not A Complaint

      Aveline was not a woman given to fear. If she had a problem, she could either bash it with her shield or browbeat it into submission. But here she was, standing outside the door of her own office and she couldn’t find the courage to turn the handle.

      “This is _your_ fault,” she exclaimed, rounding on Hawke for perhaps the third time. “I’ve got half a mind to - “

       “Piss and moan at Hawke instead of going in there to face him?” Isabela interrupted with a sweet smile

       “If I wanted your opinion I would ask for it,” Aveline gritted out, spacing her words carefully. Hawke stepped between them, perhaps noticing the way Aveline’s fists had tightened.

      “Look Aveline, I know you’re upset. Maybe we got a little… overzealous, but we really were trying to help you.”

      “I asked you to help me earlier but it didn’t _do_ anything!” Aveline snapped. “I didn’t ask for the kind of ‘help’ you decided to give!”

     Hawke shifted uncomfortably.  “I hate to say it, but the way you wanted to court Donnic earlier was kind of… um….”

       “Bizarre,” Isabela supplied helpfully. “Awkward. Painfully - ” Hawke elbowed her sharply. “Ow.”

      “I don’t have time for this.” Aveline poked Hawke in the chest and fixed her with a stern look. “Maker help me, if this goes wrong you are going to come in here and fix it.” Before she could lose her nerve, she turned around, opened the door, and stepped into her office.

      It took a moment for Aveline’s eyes to adjust to the dimmer light of her office. Her palms felt slick inside of her gauntlets, and she forced herself to breathe slowly. She walked forward and saw Donnic leaning against her desk, rather than standing at attention in front of it. That in itself was odd. If he was going to try to blackmail her over this, it would be over her dead body. She set her shoulders and faced him.

      “Guardsman Donnic, please let me explain,” she began, wincing when her voice came out too loudly.

       Donnic had an unreadable expression on his face. “What has this all been about? Some sort of practical joke?”

       “No!” Aveline said forcefully. “It’s… it’s a mess. I don’t know what to call it. First it was those stupid marigolds, and then I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you at the Hanged Man, and - “

       “Wait, when at the Hanged Man? Not when Serah Hawke dragged me down there?”

       “Yes,” she said helplessly, knowing her face would be scarlet at this point. “I asked her to… I don’t know, talk to you for me. It was stupid, I know, and then she took matters into her own hands down on the Coast….”

        A smile spread slowly across Donnic’s face. “Aveline, was all of this an attempt to tell me that you’re… interested in me?”

      Aveline had fallen so deeply into her well of embarrassment that she barely registered his use of her given name, and certainly didn’t notice the red blush that had crept up his cheeks. “Yes. It was, but I assure you, it won’t happen again, and I can arrange for a transfer -“

        “Aveline,” Donnic interrupted her, his voice strangely hushed. He walked forward a few steps until he stood right in front of her. Before she could figure out what was happening, he leaned forward and kissed her, softly and sweetly and like nothing in the world could taste better than her lips. Aveline’s eyes closed despite her shock, and she leaned into the kiss, smiling when his sideburns tickled her cheek. He pulled away slowly and rested his forehead on hers.

      “You’ve been on my mind since you became Captain,” he said a little breathlessly. “I thought you were making fun of me for having feelings for you.”

       “So… you’re not making a complaint, guardsman?” Aveline asked, feeling a bit flustered

     “Call me Donnic,” he laughed. “And no. Far from it.”  The smile that lit up his face actually made her giggle a little. And then he kissed her again, and again, as though he could not get enough of the taste of her lips. His hands came up tentatively to cradle her cheeks, and Aveline decided to abandon all restraint, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her lips more insistently against his. He stumbled back against the desk, laughing, and put his arms around her waist.

     Aveline decided would be quite a while before she emerged from her office, but Hawke would just have to wait.


	2. Honeymoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A snippet of Aveline and Donnic's honeymoon in Orlais.

       “Come on, Aveline, it’s our honeymoon,” Donnic coaxed gently. His boots were already off and lying in the sand, and he was unlacing the ties of his shirt collar. “Let’s live a little.”

      “It’s against the rules,” she whispered forcefully, crossing her arms and looking frantically back and forth. The moonlight illuminated the entire lakeshore, and there was no one in sight. The lights of the lakeside town they were staying were far up the hill, but _still._ Donnic’s cheeks and neck were flushed from the wine they’d had with dinner, and she’d had at least as much as he had, but she still couldn’t believe what her usually straight-laced husband was proposing. 

      Donnic laughed while he tugged his shirt over his head. “Whose rules? And who’s going to see us, anyway?”

      “We _are_ in Orlais,” she relented, a grin spreading over her face. “Might be good to flout their rules, if there are any.”

      “That’s the spirit,” he said happily, stumbling out of his pants and planting a kiss on her cheek.

       Aveline got out of her clothes quickly, folding them hastily in a pile on the sand, weighed down by her shoes. Her pale skin practically glowed in the moonlight, and her freckles stood out like dots of ink. After she took the band and tie out of her hair, she turned around to see Donnic looking at her with a rather dazed expression on his face.

       “Maker. Have you I ever told you that you take my breath away?”

        “Only three other times today,” she snorted, but stepped forward and kissed him gently to mask her embarrassment. His arms came around her and he began walking them slowly backwards until their feet hit the cool water of the lake. Aveline was so lost in the feeling of his lips on hers that she didn’t notice him maneuvering her to one side, and didn’t feel his hands shifting until it was too late.

      Donnic grinned before he shoved her into the deeper water of the lake, and it was sheer luck that she managed to take him down with her. She came up coughing and spluttering and glared at Donnic, who surfaced and grinned unapologetically.

      “You traitor,” she grumbled, pushing her soaked hair out of her face.

       “Sorry, love. Couldn’t resist.” He held out his arms, and she rolled her eyes but stepped into them. It was impossible to stay angry with him - the way he smiled at her with such happiness made her heart do strange flips, even at her age.

         Before Donnic could kiss her again, Aveline fixed him with a stern look. “We can’t tell anyone about this.”

       “About what?” he asked in bewilderment.

       “About… about _skinny dipping_ in Orlais,” she sputtered indignantly. “Maker help us if Isabela ever found out, and if Varric got wind of it he’d be making it into a _novel_!”

      “All right, all right,” Donnic laughed. “It’s our secret, I promise. Now, where were we…?”


End file.
